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in French and Owain translated swiftly into Welsh, they did not finger their swords as men preparing for action often did. Those who did not stand quietly ran their hands caressingly along the six-foot bows of ash or yew that they held. |
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"No killing unless it be needful," Ian snapped. |
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He knew what those yard-long shafts sped from the enormous bows could do. They were as effective as a crossbow and could be aimed and fired many times more swiftly. Not many men in England knew the use of the longbow, but any man who had fought the Welsh respected and feared the weapon. When he had time, Ian intended to introduce its use to Alinor's men, but skill with it came slowly. Only a few of his northern men-at-arms had mastered the art. |
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"I wish to know where they lair, but I do not want them, or anyone else, to know that my men are making free of the king's forest," Ian continued. "If you kill, hide the bodiesbut mark the place, so the poor creature can have a Christian burial when we find a chance to give it to him. It is sufficient evil that any such man die unshriven." |
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The last was said with more hope than conviction. Welsh hillmen said they believed in Christ, but weird ceremonies still took place in the light of the full moon, and the fear of those sins that Christian teaching most deplored sat very lightly indeed on these stalwart fighters. The men were fond of him, Ian knew, and might mark their victim's bodies to please him. He doubted very much that any concern for the souls of the departed would trouble his Welsh bowmen. Yet he could not help loving them. They were as wild and free as falcons, and they did his bidding out of the same kind of combination of feral greed and affection for its master that a trained falcon has. |
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He went to the door of the hut to watch them, totally fascinated, as always, by the way they disappeared into the landscape when only a few tens of yards from the |
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